


November Prompts (Supercat)

by fictorium



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-01 13:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12705678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: A post for the Supercat ficlets I've been doing this month. I know not everyone likes them on Tumblr, so here you are.





	1. Hips Before Hands

Kara’s out most of the day chasing down sources for her story on the rash of bank robberies in National City over the past month, although she checks in on the CatCo building regularly, knowing Cat is back in town today.

The AGM for shareholders is usually a lavish affair, one Cat could just about tolerate as CEO. Now she’s invited as a courtesy, no longer queen of her own media empire. Unfortunately her mother will be there too, having clung on to the shares Cat gave her out of misguided sentiment years ago. So much for finding the company tacky; she certainly doesn’t mind the money it makes her.

By the time Kara gets back, having stopped one of the robberies in progress as Supergirl, she’s barely thinking about the meeting at all. She hears Katherine Grant long before she sees her, making a sniffy comment about how much better the company seems to be doing since Cat left to go be a government stooge. Kara doesn’t need to hear Cat’s reaction to picture the tight line of her mouth and the hurt in her eyes. Zipping up a few floors, she interrupts their conversation before they even notice she’s there.

“Ms. Grant?” Kara hopes Katherine doesn’t question an ex-assistant having news for Cat. “Your car is waiting downstairs, with a secure line to the President. She says she won’t proceed without your advice.”

That puts a certain someone in her place, since everyone around Cat is rubbernecking to see her sweep into action as the President’s right-hand woman.

“Thank you, Kara,” she says, and the gratitude is as genuine as it’s ever been. She actually takes Kara by the elbow and steers her toward the private elevator. Once they’re out of earshot, Cat leans in. “I don’t know how you knew I needed rescuing, but I’m very glad you did. Remind me to Google the sentencing guidelines for matricide, would you?”

The tension in Cat is wound so high she’s practically vibrating, a human tuning fork of hurt and resentment. She doesn’t deserve that. No one should be able to make her feel that way. Making an impulse decision, Kara whips out her phone. After firing off a text to Carter’s nanny--of course she still has the current numbers, just in case--Kara pushes the button for the elevator to go to the roof instead.

“Ms. Grant... Cat... there’s something I need to tell you.” As Kara pulls off her glasses, she could swear that’s a knowing smile coming back at her.

 

* * *

 

“Thank you for telling me,” Cat murmurs close to Kara’s ear as they fly across the city. “Where are we going?”

“To get Carter,” Kara explains. “Do you think he’ll forgive you if we don’t take him on a cheer up trip with Supergirl? Come on.”

“You always think of everything.” Cat wriggles a little in Kara’s grip, otherwise completely comfortable about the flying thing. “But where after that?”

“Spoilers,” Kara says, warning her off the topic. “Just wait and see.”

 

* * *

 

It's harder to fly with two people, though it helps that Carter is gaining on his mother in height. That keeps Kara's calculations a little more balanced. She's gotten so used to converting kryptonian math to earth's symbols and figures that it barely takes an extra second here and there. When they land, she commits her first minor crime of the night and zips into the closed official merchandise outlet to grab a few things. Once she's kitted out, Kara steps back out to find Cat and Carter staring up in wonder at the famous red-and-white marquee.

"Coming?" She asks, thrusting a small jersey towards each of them. Carter she also hands a cap to, and he shoves it on backwards, tamping down his curls. When it comes to Cat, Kara places her cap on her head for her, smiling broadly. "What do you think?"

"I think the season is over, or the Cubs aren't playing at home today. Take your pick." Cat looks faintly cold, as she always does anywhere outside of National City's omnipresent heat.

"This is so cool," Carter says, pulling a bat and glove from Kara's stash. "How are we paying for all this?"

"I'll make sure the money gets to them," Kara promises, since she still has a CatCo credit card for expenses, something the other reporters would be incredibly jealous of if they knew. "Now, let's get in there. Operation Cheer Up hasn't started yet."

"Why do you need to be cheered up, mom?" Carter asks.

"Your grandmother is in town," Cat admits. Kara appreciates how little she lies to her son. "So I'm very glad that we no longer are. Lead the way, Supergirl. Though unless the entire Cubs outfield is waiting to give me a... massage, I don't quite know why we're here."

"Stress release." Kara is still frowning about the outfield comment. She's well aware that Cat is a sexual person, an inveterate flirt and insanely attractive to boot. It's just Kara really, really doesn't like it when Cat talks about potentially having that kind of fun with other people. Especially Kara's cousin, though thankfully he doesn't seem to be on the menu today. She picks them up by their shoulders and when they land, it's on home plate, the central focus of Wrigley Field.

Dipping into the dugout, she's pleased to see someone has left a whole basket of balls, and Carter has the rest of their equipment. Kara, for her part, won't need a glove to catch. She drags the balls out onto the field, smiling to see both Cat and Carter looking around in wonder.

"This is so much cooler than the stadium at home," Carter says. "Have you ever been here before, Mom?"

"Once or twice," Cat says, and Kara's heart skips a beat. She chose Wrigley because she likes the ivy and Chicago hotdogs. How has she stumbled into something that is meaningful to Cat? "Your grandfather brought me. They were supposed to be work trips, but really..."

"You were both just escaping grandma?" 

Cat pulls Carter close, and Kara feels bad that she can overhear the private words between them. "If I ever make you feel that way, Carter..."

"No, not ever," he promises. "Hey, Kara!"

Both women freeze at his use of the correct name. "Oh, sorry. I was supposed to keep pretending."

"Are we going to play some baseball or what?" Kara demands, shooting the kid a quick smile so he knows it's okay. "I promise to keep my super skills turned down low."

She's thrilled that Cat jogs towards the pitcher's mound, slipping the glove on her slender hand and rooting carefully through the basket of balls for just the right one. 

"You play?" Kara asks. She expected more resistance to the idea by this point, but Cat does generally seem appeased at being allowed to hit things. Better these than her employees' heads. Her aim with a stapler is uncanny.

"I have two sons," Cat reminds her, even if they never talk about Adam anymore, about how she never got to do all this with him on a backyard scale. "Batter up, Carter!"

He grins and swings the bat clumsily. Kara isn't sure Cat can pitch that far. Maybe they need to move it in. To give Carter even a fighting chance of hitting, because that swing looks like his arms are attached the wrong way round. She's just about to suggest it, but seeing Cat wiggle her ass ridiculously on the mound and scrape her toes in the dust stops Kara short. She's only more stunned by the fact that Cat can throw a semi-decent pitch, overarm and everything. 

Carter hits it. Sure, it's a foul ball and it wouldn't count, but he's jumping around anyway. "Nice one, Mom."

Kara takes flight, hovering lazily in the air above them. "I'll give you five dollars if you can hit me on the next one, Carter."

He squints up at her. "Kara, do you know how much is in my trust fund?"

She glares back. He's a good kid, but Cat does have him spoiled in a number of ways. 

"What do I get if I hit you, Supergirl?" Cat is tossing a ball back and forth from her glove. "I'm afraid my going rate is higher, too."

Kara considers. She knows what the first answer coming to mind is, but she's not going to finally hit on Cat in front of her son. That would be a step too far even for the girl who dated Cat's other son just to hide her true feelings. "Whatever you think is fair," Kara decides. She pretends she's not disappointed when Cat throws to Carter again. This time he misses altogether.

It's lovely to hear them laugh, to see Cat shake off her blazer and just drop it in the dirt so she has more freedom of movement. Later, when Carter isn't paying attention, Cat will demand the thing be burned while dousing herself in hand sanitizer, but it's nice when she can let the small things go. She even pulls on the stolen jersey, not bothering to button it. This kind of relaxation is everything Kara wanted for her. She's so caught up in her self-congratulating that she doesn't see the incoming ball until it's too late for even her reflexes.

Cat Grant just smacked her on the ass with a baseball, and Kara couldn't be happier about it. She floats down to the ground, rubbing the affected area like it could actually have been hurt. 

"Fine," she grumbles, putting her hands on her hip for the full Supergirl effect. "Name your prize, Cat."

"Carter?" Cat calls out, never taking her gaze from Kara. "Sweetheart, could you go check your phone somewhere out of my sightline for a minute or two?"

"Why?" Comes the response of every teenager asked to do anything at all.

" _Carter._ " 

"Why is he being banished-" Kara starts to ask, but she's interrupted by Cat's lips on hers, warm and firm and just as demanding as she is in every other part of her life. It's not just a kiss, it's a demand to be kissed in return. To be kissed so deeply and thoroughly that they forget their names and where the hell they are.

Or at least until a few minutes fly past, and the clock is finally stopped by Carter's cry of, "Gross, Mom!"

"Thank you," Cat says, her arms dropping slightly, moving her grip to Kara's waist. "For knowing just what I needed."

"Thank you for, um, making out with me," Kara replies, because she has manners. "Okay, do we want to hit some more balls before it gets dark? Or do you guys want to try the best hotdogs you've ever had?" Cat crinkles her nose, but Kara has a feeling she can talk her into anything right now. 

"Hotdogs!" Carter announces. "And make sure it's somewhere with decent wifi so I can ignore all the goopy staring."

"Ready?" Kara asks, whizzing their mess away out of sight, leaving them just with their jerseys and caps, snagging an extra one of each for herself and charging her card on the card machine. When she returns a blink later, she holds out her hand to Cat.

"Oh, I'm ready." 


	2. Cat in Kara's clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From anonymous

Kara wakes up smiling, the gentle sunlight that breaks through the curtains like a new caress on her face. It’s a moment of stillness before Cat’s ringtone shatters the peace.

“Hnf?” Is how Cat answers, peeling herself away from Kara’s naked body. They never sleep over here, but last night’s date had devolved into wine and candles on the roof of Kara’s building, due to half of the city being rendered temporarily shutdown and without power. They’d made the most of it anyway, and as Kara realized she couldn’t hear the voice on the other end of Cat’s call, so too she realized that her powers were blown.

Well. Cat had been quite enthusiastic, and there are definitely scorch marks on the ceiling again, which suggests they maybe went a little too hard again. It’s just so hard not to. Honestly, after the week she’s had fighting crime, Kara is a little relieved to have even a few hours of peace. It’s hard to explain what it’s like living with the ability to hear everything that goes wrong, in real time. 

“Are you fucking-” Cat leaps out of bed and the rest of the conversation is lost to the bathroom door slamming behind her. Another little CatCo crisis probably. There have been a few corporate fires since Cat came back from Washington and bought out Lena as agreed. People seem to think they can test the boundaries in ways they haven’t before, not helped by the open secret that Cat is now sleeping with her former assistant. 

Kara pulls on her robe since she can actually feel the slight morning chill for once. Her nipples are hard as the soft cotton pulls across them, and she can’t help hoping Cat’s mood is something that can be resolved by getting back into bed together. Or there’s always the kitchen counter. It really is the perfect height for-

“Kara! My clothes!” Cat practically howls from the bathroom. She’s off the phone and brushing her teeth, still buck naked and apparently livid. 

Kara picks up the little black dress Cat had wowed in last night. Or at least the three hanging bits of material left of it. So maybe Kara had been a little enthusiastic about getting Cat out of her clothes last night. It happens. 

“Uh, Cat?” 

She’s trying to resurrect her makeup, and Kara thinks she still looks gorgeous, good enough to eat in fact, but Cat isn’t looking at the dress, just gesturing for it so she can get dressed. 

“The dress is dead,” Kara can’t think of a better way to say it. “But your bra is fine?”

Cat likes to preen about how lingerie is more for show, that at her age the ‘girls’ are still petite and perky enough for the support to be optional. She is not dwelling on that positive right now.

“Well, can you fly to my apartment and get me something to wear?” Cat asks, much more sweetly than she ever used to. “Morgan Edge bought his way onto the board and is calling an emergency meeting. That was Lena calling to warn me, that he’s going to challenge the validity of my return.”

“I can’t,” Kara starts to panic, and maybe that will be enough to reboot her. “You broke me, with either the fourth or fifth… you know, with the indoor fireworks?”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, kinda. Borrow something of mine, we’ll get Eve to rescue something from the dry cleaning and you can change at the office.”

“There’s no time, the meeting is already starting. I have to get in before the vote.”

“Then we’ll just have to make do. You should really keep some clothes here, in case… you know what?” Kara says, seeing the glare. “Not the time. I have some decent clothes, you know.”

Cat mutters something Kara doesn’t care to ask her to repeat. Only when she pulls a simply black skirt and inoffensive sweater from the rack does Cat relax a little.

“You know, we could solve this altogether if you’d just move in with me.” 

Cat leaves Kara speechless as she pulls on the clothes, frowning at her bare legs and retrieving her shoes. “See?” Kara says. “You look amazing. Better than I do in those. Wait, don’t you need underwear?”

“Nope.” Cat is determined to kill her. “Grab whatever passes for makeup in this apartment, I’ve already texted my driver. Let’s go, Danvers. Get something outdoor appropriate on that body of yours. Then when I crush this man again we can celebrate by both taking off your terrible clothes.”

Dashing around to comply, they’re in the car five minutes later and breaking all kinds of traffic laws as they go. Thankfully Kara’s artsy district isn’t so far from the CatCo building.

“Did you mean it?” She asks as they take a corner just a little too fast, reaching for Cat’s hand out of instinct.

“About moving in?” Cat confirms, looking out the window. “Yes. I’ve already cleared it with Carter. If you’re not interested then-”

Kara pulls her closer, into a searing kiss. “I am so interested. Not because your house might be an actual spaceship, although that is cool. But I’d live in a treehouse with you, if you asked me to. I love you, Cat.”

“Just as well,” Cat says with a smirk, kissing Kara again. “Since I love you, too.”


	3. Family Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara is nervous about spending her first thanksgiving with Cat's family instead of the Danvers. (She's torn between loving the Grants so much and missing her familiar routines & traditions)

They’re picking out Halloween pumpkins when Cat casually mentions it, leaning against the barn door at the farmers’ market that’s the only acceptable place to pick out seasonal produce. She has her sunglasses on despite the gloom, despite the fact Kara points out they draw more attention than not wearing them would. Cat has her habits, and she’s dealt with fame far longer than she cares to talk about, so Kara lets her be.

“It’s my year, with Carter. I had Christmas last year, so Thanksgiving this one. We don’t usually do much, just the two of us. Still, I thought you’d like to be part of it?”

Kara’s heart sinks just a fraction as she smiles. Cat has gotten much better at asking instead of just making hurricane-like plans and sweeping Kara up in them. They’ve been dating since the spring, and it’s a semi-public secret that Kara isn’t sure how they’re pulling off, but she’ll endure just about anything from paparazzi or the internet for the sudden feeling of Cat’s arm around her waist, pulling Kara close. 

“Of course,” she replies, kissing Cat’s cheek. Kara will miss her raucous found-family holiday, the one that’s usually interrupted by someone hopping dimensions or turning into electricity, but this is the kind of step she’s been hoping for all summer. Cat doesn’t share readily, but when she does it’s wholehearted. “What can I do to help? I can’t really cook, as you know, but-”

Cat shakes her head, squeezing Kara’s hip. She’s so tactile in ways that Kara didn’t expect. “No, the deal is that it’s the one thing I organize myself, every second year. You just have to show up. And eat a lot of food.”

“Well that I can do,” Kara agrees, a little surprised that Cat is so insistent, but it would explain why there were no Thanksgiving tasks as Cat’s assistant two years ago. 

“Shall we round up Carter before he decides pumpkins have feelings?” Cat asks, checking her watch. She doesn’t let go of Kara as they walk over to Carter, who’s still trying to choose between a selection of giant gourds. “Time to choose, honey.”

Carter picks out the smallest of the set, and Kara pulls away from Cat just long enough to lift it for him. On the way home Kara thinks about texting Alex, before realizing she’ll probably have plans with Maggie anyway. Everything’s changing, and Kara just has to get used to it.

***

She stays over on the Wednesday night, as she does most nights now. Cat is in a bubbly mood at the prospect of time off with Carter, and it’s fun to see her in something other than work mode in the middle of the week. Kara is actually trying to read in bed–she unearthed some amazing information on LordTech’s founding that has the makings of an article, but the minute Cat slips beneath the sheets, the iPad is forgotten.

“Did you want something?” Kara tries to sound unperturbed as Cat’s delicate fingertips skim higher on Kara’s bare thighs. 

“Just you. Now,” Cat practically growls as she proceeds to have exactly that, in a symphony of mouth and hands that leaves Kara breathless, almost human in her exhaustion.

“What was that for?” She asks a while later, nipping at Cat’s earlobe and starting to have her own way with her. 

“For being serious about us,” Cat confesses, her filters down. “For being here when it matters. We should make that more permanent, don’t you think?”

Kara’s response is an open-mouthed kiss to Cat’s clavicle. It answers the question well enough.

*** 

Good sex always leaves Kara sleeping like the dead, but she’s surprised to wake up to a noisy house. Cat’s home is many things, but it’s rarely noisy. Rushing through a shower and change, Kara is singing to herself rather than listening in. She barely knows Cat’s extended family, can’t imagine they’d be invited. Still, she pulls on clothes that Cat bought for her rather than anything of her own, smart enough in skinny jeans and a black button-down shirt.

It’s only when she approaches the living room that Kara recognizes the voices. That’s Alex, talking to Winn. Maggie teasing J’onn about something. And is that Eliza explaining something about peptide bonds to Carter? Kara bursts in on them all with super speed, aware that she must look more than a little confused.

“There’s sleeping beauty,” Cat teases, offering Kara a mug of coffee and a plate of Pop Tarts. She’s given up on the healthy food front, accepting that Kara’s metabolism could probably process Tupperware if she chowed down on it with enough enthusiasm. “Why do you look like you woke up a hundred years out of time?”

“They’re… hi James! Lucy! My family. Our friends. They’re here for Thanksgiving?”

“Of course they are.” Cat gives her a puzzled look. “Wait, did you really think it was an either/or situation? Kara, when I give ultimatums, they usually involve much louder tantrums.”

“But–”

“You’ve lost so much already. Given up even more despite that. Did you really think I’d want you to join my family and leave your own behind? No,” Cat sees that Kara is about to cry, and sets her breakfast aside to stroke Kara’s cheek. “You worked too hard to find them, to keep them. I meant what I said last night about permanence. It’s not mine and yours anymore, darling. It’s our family.”

“Does this mean I get to freak Kara out by calling her mommy?” Carter asks on his way past. “Just kidding!” He says when Kara is shocked. “I’ll call you something way cooler, like Ma.”

“This is a lot,” Kara says on a long exhale. 

Cat kisses her. “But not too much?”

“Never,” Kara promises. “Thank you.”

“You want the kissing to stop so you can have your Pop Tarts, don’t you?”

“I’ll just be a minute, I swear,” Kara says, shoving the warm snack into her mouth. She looks around at the assembled family, basks in their smiles and their playful jabs at each other. It’s going to be the best Thanksgiving yet. All they need now are the villains to give them the whole day off.


	4. White House reporter Kara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SuperCat slightly future fic - Kara has seasoned as a reporter and her most recent promotion has her covering the White House beat (we'll assume Olivia won re-election & is serving a second term). [anonymous]

“…and finally, they invited Allison Janney to the Correspondents’ Dinner again, so some of the guys were wondering if they could get a snap of you two together. Meta, you know?”

God, Cat can’t stand this assistant. She’s at the mercy of the DNC for staffing her office, but given that she’s the first Press Secretary in the modern era to also serve as overall Director of Communications, her time is much too precious to waste on hiring and firing. There’s no Winslow or Kelly here to pick up the slack while she rotates assistants. 

“Absolutely not. Not only can Janney drink me under a table, but she’s got about a foot on me. I don’t need that visual metaphor out in the world.”

“Of course, ma’am.” And the ma’am isn’t going anywhere, not when your new assistant is a friend of Lucy Lane’s, former JAG Corps. “Before your ten o’clock briefing, there’s just the list of the new credentials for you to familiarize yourself with.”

“Keira.” Okay, so that isn’t her name either. “I don’t need to know their names and their alma mater and which pinterest clipping they’re just super proud of. So long as they make it clear which outlet they’re from, and are willing to shun Breitbart with the rest of the room, it couldn’t possibly matter less who the new faces are.”

With that, Cat is on the march. 

She might not own this building, beside her 300millionth-share as a citizen, but people still scurry in her wake like she’s the oncoming storm. The unruly press room settles to a murmur the second she steps through the door, and the pointless shouting barely has a chance to start up when she calls on the Post for first question without looking to see which of their reporters is in today and raising their hand. Asking them first stops Jeff from hijacking her bedroom Echo with vague threats, at least. 

She shuffles through her talking points, which are at least neatly presented. Not-Keira has that going for her. There’s some useful background on the Afghanistan situation, someone Cat’s been pressing for since Senior Staff earlier, so she won’t be caught offguard. It’s that confidence that has her ship the Times and the Sun-Times, for something a little closer to home. 

“Who’s in from the National City Tribune today? I believe we have a newbie.”

She looks up just in time to get hit with the full force of that smile. “Kara Danvers, for the Tribune?”

Cat wants to laugh. Three years of dropping in for a crisis, the occasional overwrought email, and articles deepening in scale and talent by the week: of course this is Kara’s reward. They’re destined to be around each other, despite Cat’s continuous attempts to bow out, to keep a safe distance. She acknowledges Kara with a nod, not trusting herself to speak.

Of course, Kara launches into a prepared question. Much too long, nothing that Cat could answer even if she wanted to. She sees the smiles amongst the sharks out there. Fresh blood, indeed. 

Only instead of the well-researched question about defense spending, Cat’s mind is replaying I think I’m going to kiss you on a reckless loop, last year at CatCo’s holiday party. Kara retreating from Lena’s side the moment Cat appeared, that same loyalty leading them back to Cat’s office. It’s still yours, Kara insists. Nobody else can fill the room like you can. How Cat had blushed at the compliment, hadn’t shot it down the way she should have. Leaving a quiet space for I think I’m going to kiss you to be said, and Kara would have followed through but for the alien ship crashing into a building four blocks over.

“Ms Danvers, while your essay no doubt has tremendous footnotes, for information on that I’ll have to refer you to DoD. A Pentagon spokesperson will be available this afternoon.”

Cat never does that, never tells them where to get what she can’t provide. In Washington she’s the river through which all information must flow. What the rest don’t know is that Kara Danvers has her own kayak, and she doesn’t have to swim against the tide like mere mortals. 

“Oh. But–”

“The Pentagon,” Cat cuts her off, pointing to the old-timer from the Baltimore Sun, who looks like he files on stone tablets with a chisel. As he asks the same question in a way she can give some detail on, Cat gives not-Keira the nod for Kara. Bring her back after the briefing. They clearly need to talk.

It seems like hours before Cat is out of there, though it’s the standard thirty minutes. She takes her blazer off, throwing it over the back of her desk chair. The blouse beneath is a little daring for Washington, but that’s one of the subtle ways she’s been making a splash time after time. Then the knock on the door comes, and too many years of denial come crashing down at her at once.

“Kara,” she says, as warm as she’s capable of being. “Congratulations. Snapper could have given me a heads up.”

“I asked him not to,” Kara confesses. “With how we left things, how quiet you’ve been… I didn’t want to risk not getting the gig. I’ve worked hard for it.”

“I’ve noticed. I won’t do anything to jeopardize you, Kara.”

“Okay. It’s really good to see you.” Kara makes to leave, hand on the open door.

“Close it,” Cat whispers, knowing she’ll certainly be heard. “Just for a minute, let’s just–”

Kara’s mouth is on hers before the door is done slamming, a dead giveaway she’ll have to be more careful of in this town. There’s nothing too fast about the thorough way Kara kisses her, as prepared and in-depth as her list of questions. Cat tangles her fingers in that gorgeous hair, pulling it loose from a tidy chignon without caring one bit. They can put themselves back together later. Right now, she’s only interested in coming apart at the seams.

It would seem Kara has the same idea, guiding them towards the couch Cat keeps along one wall, pulling Cat down on top of her without having to be told that’s the arrangement that Cat would prefer. 

“Welcome to the White House,” Cat says, barely holding back a moan as Kara kisses the tender spot beneath Cat’s left ear. “How are you finding it?”

“Surprisingly open,” Kara answers, parting Cat’s thighs with an effortless stroke of her hands. “I hope it’s going to be a memorable experience, don’t you?”

“Mmm,” Cat kisses her more forcefully on the lips this time. “I think that can be arranged.”


	5. Medieval AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For elizadunc

Kara stood straight and tall behind the throne, even though the only other person in the room was the server pouring out mead for Queen Catherine. 

“Will that be all, your majesty?”

“Have someone bring word as soon as my son returns,” the Queen instructs, sounding bored. Kara worries when the boredom creeps in. Those are the days they seem to become involved with conquering small, neighboring kingdoms, or issuing decrees that mean must not be allowed out after sundown, for fear they’ll misbehave.

Unlike her usual diet of well-cooked meat and cheeses on a bed of the palace’s freshest roughage, today the queen appears to be dining on some of Cook’s infamous chocolate cake, and an assortment of other treats that make Kara’s mouth water. The kitchen staff are generous with her, but no knight can eat on duty. Not in the presence of the royal family, at least. She just hopes her stomach doesn’t rumble and echo within her armor.

They’re alone now. The queen prods at her plate with one finger. “Keira?”

House Danvers is a minor family within the court, so Kara doesn’t correct her majesty on the correct sounds of her name. “Yes, your majesty?”

“I think you’d better taste this.”

Poison? Kara had heard no rumors. Of course, any monarch is susceptible to such treachery, but broadly speaking the kingdom is at peace. The latest attempt on the throne was more than two years ago, the thwarting of it is the reason Kara found herself promoted to the Queen’s guard. 

“Of course.” The cake is rich and sweet, the cocoa so rich on her tongue that Kara wants to sigh in happiness. It’s hard to bend well in her heavy armor, but she does her best not to bump the table or the queen as she sets the fork back down. “I taste nothing untoward.”

“We’ll have to give it time,” the queen instructs, motioning for Kara to take the seat beside her. “Can you take off some of that steel, so we might see the effects quicker?”

Though she feels naked without it, Kara strips quickly to her jerkin and tights, knowing that she’s the fastest fighter at court, and no one ever gets close enough to land a blow on her anyway. “When will it be safe for you to eat, your majesty?”

“Try some of these sweet things,” Cat insists, handing a bowl of hard candies that shine like jewels. “Cook tells me these are your favorite. So you should know them better than anyone.”

Kara pops a lemon cube onto her tongue, and this time a little moan does escape her lips. This is not the day she expected, rising with the dawn to sharpen her swords. It’s strange that no one has come to interrupt them. The queen has countless advisers, not to mention the usual rotation of guards to ensure no one gets lazy or complacent. She can’t complain at having extra time around Queen Catherine. There’s no lie to the honorific that she’s the fairest in all the land.

“Don’t forget to drink this, too.” Kara accepts the goblet, expecting mead. Instead a fine, fruity wine dances across her tongue. This must be from the Queen’s private cellar. 

“Still no taste of poison,” Kara confirms, wishing she could savor another sip.

“Of course not,” the queen sighs.

“Queen Catherine, I’m sorry if I have spoken out of turn?”

“Before I was queen, those I cared for would call me Cat,” she explains, sounding wistful. “Before I wore this crown, the sharing of food and wine like this would be considered courtship. Have I lost that common touch, Kara?”

So she does know the proper name. Kara blinks in surprise, reaching for another candy to occupy her tongue. It stops her blurting out something idiotic in response. Cat waits, not letting her escape the need to answer.

“No,” Kara says eventually. “I believe you may still have any touch you like, common or otherwise.”

“There would be nothing common about touching you,” Cat says, her words ending in a sigh. Emboldened, Kara reaches out to take Cat’s hand. This is her queen. Her life is in service to this woman, and now she’s being offered the very contents of her dreams. 

“Your majesty,” Kara needs the title here, needs to remind herself of the stakes of her decision. “I am just a lowly knight, but may I kiss you?”

“I think I will die if you don’t,” Cat admits. “Even without some helpful poison or other.”

It’s all the invitation Kara needs, cradling that regal face in her hands, wishing they were soft and unmarred by battle. A moment later she feels lips on her own, the taste of wine and chocolate giving way to something far more intoxicating. Kara’s heart leaps in her chest, and if she was loyal and devoted before, she’s a hundred times more so now. 

“Won’t your advisers object?” Kara asks later, when the kisses finally halt for a moment. 

“Let them,” Cat says. “What is the point in being queen if you can’t make your own happiness? It may not be the law of the land, but I need you by my side, Kara. Not just with your trusty sword, but with your hand in mine. Perhaps I can’t make you queen, but there are titles aplenty if we need them.”

“I need no title,” Kara promises. She’ll bring no judgment on her ruler. “But I fear I do need this, too. Your hand in mine every bit as necessary.”

“Then it shall be. Though the world can wait for now.” Cat stands, her deep blue dress the softest velvet that Kara yearns to feel beneath her fingertips. “We have some privacy yet. Come, let’s make the most of it.”


	6. Superbabies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> supercat + superbabies plisssssss [anonymous]

Kara’s first reaction is sheer, unbridled terror. 

What if they’re hurting? What if Max treated them as callously as Bizarro and the failed attempts at her? That’s when the panic gives way to head-splitting rage, and she lasers the nearest wall pretty badly to let some of it out, just to be able to think.

Then she does what any hero would, carefully scooping up those babies from the sterile incubators that hold them, and holds them close so they can feel her warmth, hear her heartbeat. She’s here, she has them, and they’re safe.

It’s a mother’s impulse, long before she finds out how these two children came to be.

***

“I guessed that they’re twins,” Kara scoffs, pacing back and forth in Alex’s DEO office. “You didn’t pull me in here to tell me that they’re twins.”

“The subjects–the babies–are Kryptonian. Half, in fact. Max Lord still had your DNA, and he’s been experimenting. He was shot earlier tonight trying to escape, so he can’t do any more harm, Kara.”

“They’re… mine?” Just like the birthing matrix. Strands of DNA entwined, merged to form the children of affluent Kryptonian dynasties, the last generation of their planet all born that way. Until Kal-El. “Alex, if they’re only half-Kryptonian, who’s their other parent?”

Once she would have tried to convince herself the answer was Mon-El. A union of Krypton and Daxam centuries later. She’s learned her lesson in his absence about what a healthy relationship is, what respect feels like, and the difference between love a person is cajoled into thinking they feel, versus the real thing. 

Cat is the real thing. The one who came back and apologized for ever leaving. The one who gave up everything–her company, a career in Washington, a relationship with her oldest son–to be with Kara. They’ve weathered some storms in this past year, but how does Kara tell her she’s suddenly mother to experimental twins?

“Their other parent is human.” Alex shuffles the papers. “In a way, it’s the best possible news. I can already see you feel responsible for them. The only other person Max Lord was quite as obsessed with as you… was Cat. He must have figured she made a fine specimen of humanity.”

“There’s little doubt about that,” Cat says from the doorway, Lucy Lane at her side. “What’s this about finding children in that godforsaken Frankenstein facility? Are they okay?”

Kara blinks when the words won’t come. Does Lucy know? Has Lucy told? Cat doesn’t seem to have all the facts, but there she is, a mother already in word and deed. That compassion, that huge heart that Kara is still finding new depths to, shines out like a beacon in a room of faintly terrified women. 

“I’ll leave you to talk,” Alex says. She heads towards Lucy, a look of understanding passing between them. “If you have questions, if you need the data… we’ll be just down the hall.”

“Kara?” Cat greets her with their usual easy embrace, only her habitual kiss on the lips cut short in concern. “What happened in there?”

“Lord he… more experiments.”

“On children? God, I knew he had issues, but I didn’t think he was a monster.”

“No, he… he made them. From my DNA. Just like Bizarro. Only this time, he mixed that with a human. There are twin babies, just through there. And we’re their biological parents. Not that you’re under any obligation–”

“Ours?” Cat’s voice cracks. “Twins? I thought… I thought Carter was my last chance, just when I was starting to get the hang of this motherhood thing.”

“You’re saying…”

“It would have come up eventually,” Cat tries to play it down, waving it off with one hand and reaching for Kara with the other. “That doesn’t mean your hand is forced here. You didn’t ask for this. I have time now. More than enough to provide for them. Anyone would understand, but Kara…”

“Yes?”

“It might not have been planned, but I’d love to have more of a family with you. Even if that’s going to mean floating toddlers who can x-ray their Christmas presents before opening.”

“We don’t know yet if they’ll have powers. It was tricky getting blood samples, but so far that’s it. You don’t think this is crazy?”

“Oh no, it’s completely batshit,” Cat corrects her. “But so is everything about us, about this life we’re making together. If we wait for conventional, I think we’ll be waiting a hell of a long time.”

“Do you want to see them?”

“Preferably before I burst, yes,” Cat answers right away, clicking her heels in a fast march the whole way down the corridor, not waiting to be led. The gasp when she first sets eyes on them is a balm to Kara’s turbulent heart, and Cat looks only for a nod of permission before scooping up the first baby–their daughter–and cradling her close. There’s no need to be invited, Kara joins her by picking up their other daughter, rocking her gently so the happy burbling continues. 

“You really want this?” Kara asks, smiling at Cat. Her answer is a firm kiss on the mouth, their bodies separated only by the wriggling little girls they’re holding. “We’re going to need to make some adjustments.”

“Good a time as any for you to finally move in,” Cat says, reluctantly letting Alex have a turn with baby girl one. “And Eve has the nursery in hand. It just needs a quick revamp.”

“What about names?” Lucy asks, fussing with the baby Kara is holding. “I know you can’t name them both after me, but one is fine.”

“It’s bad enough they’re related to a Lane by marriage,” Cat argues. “We’ll sleep on it. Or not,” she adds with a wince as twin wails break out. “How long before we can take them home?”

“All being well, tomorrow,” Alex says. “We want to test for powers just a little longer.”

“Superbabies,” Cat sighs. “Because becoming a mother again in my fifties won’t be challenging enough.”

“You’ll have me,” Kara reminds her, wrapping an arm around Cat and pressing into her side. It leaves the babies toe-to-toe. “And when have we ever backed down from a challenge?”

“We need to do some more tests,” Alex interrupts, as gently as she can. There’s a longing in her eyes that Kara understands now. If these babies hadn’t been made from Kara and Cat, there’s little doubt who’d have taken them on. Kara vows then and there to let Alex be as involved as she wants to be. “I’ll be quick.”

“And careful,” Cat warns. The love Kara feels for her thunders in her chest, wrapped up in the sudden, expanding love for their children. For Carter, who’ll hopefully be overjoyed. For the parents she lost and the families she found. 

“Let’s go get some coffee,” Kara suggests. “We’d better get a start on those names.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, did you really think Cat Grant would let a Supergirl cult pass without comment?

When Cat left for Washington, it was with a promise that they’d talk more, that she’d give Kara article feedback in real time, not a year after the fact. Just like everyone else, Cat doesn’t keep the promise.

So Kara isn’t especially in the mood for Cat’s call when it comes, too early in the morning because the only relevant timezone is the one Cat finds herself in. Still, it’s got to be better than staring at the ceiling and not sleeping.

“Yes?” Kara has never answered the phone so curtly in her life. It feels surprisingly good.

“You’re a  _god_  now?” 

Another time, Kara might have fumbled for an excuse or barely-believable lie. This morning she’s still tired of Kara Danvers, missing Krypton and her parents more than anything. If Cat Grant wants to talk to Supergirl, then that’s who she’s going to get.

“Hello, Cat. You sound jealous.”

A snort of derision.

“ _Are_ you jealous?” Kara pushes. She wants to hear it. Wants the unflappable Cat from C-SPAN to come home and be hell in high heels five days a week to Kara again. She wants a lot of things, and she’s tired of having none of them. 

“I’ve had seven stalkers, but I’ve never been the focus of an entire religion,” Cat complains. “It hardly seems fair.”

“It’s not like I asked them. This is what makes you finally tell me that you know?” 

“It felt a little overdue. I would have told you during the Daxam mess, but you were pining over some boy. I’m glad that embarrassing phase is over.”

“You were avoiding me in case I got my sad all over you?” Kara gets out of bed, pacing back and forth across her living room just a little too fast. “That’s not exactly supportive.”

“I didn’t think you’d appreciate being told that you were too busy being in love with the idea of some star-crossed romance to notice that you were having a relationship with a walking Reddit comment.”

“Wow.”

Cat actually sounds worried for a moment. “Did I go too far?”

“He wasn’t  _that_  bad.” The protest sounds weak even to Kara. 

“When are you going to date someone worthy of you?” Cat demands, just as she told Kara to realize she was astonishing, and to stand up for herself.

“I guess when  _someone worthy_  asks. Or lives on the right side of the country at least.”

“Oh please. If I ever acted on this spark of attraction between us, you’d fly off so fast that you’d hit Mars before I could finish propositioning you. Which is a shame, because I have some frankly scandalous lines that would bring out that charming blush in you. Still, maybe one of your cultists will ask. You can go out with matching ‘S’s on your chests.” 

“You know, it drives me crazy that you didn’t research that. It’s not an ‘s’. It’s a Kryptonian symbol, and the crest of my house.”

“How very Hogwarts of you.” Kara waits. She knows Cat’s curiosity is strong enough to prove the saying correct. “So what  _does_  it stand for, pray tell?”

“Stronger together,” Kara says. “Which we could be, if you’d stop assuming you know everything and just asked me out. Ms Grant.”

“I’ll consider it. Go, be worshipped or whatever it is you’re doing today.” And she hangs up without saying goodbye, because sometimes Cat her former boss is still absolutely the same as Cat the person. 

Kara clutches her phone to her chest and blinks a few times to make sure that really did happen, that she’s awake and on the right Earth. Her phone bleeps a minute later, the restaurant name and time for tomorrow lighting up the screen. Definitely real.

Rushing off to shower, Kara wonders if Rao heard her prayers after all. If not, the universe is doing just fine in his place.


End file.
